


Eat My Way To Your Heart

by pippen2112



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Dom Fjord (Critical Role), Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sub Caleb Widogast, Subspace, WidoFjord Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 04:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/pseuds/pippen2112
Summary: For seven seconds, Caleb stares, his brain slow to react in the face of such a scintillating sight. His mouth waters. He steps forward, the door swinging shut behind him loud enough to startle, but Caleb can’t blink away from Fjord. “Was ist das?” he asks, his voice coming out coarse and gravelly.Fjord grins, shifting in his seat. He plants both feet on the ground and slowly splays his knees, revealing the source of the silvery shimmer. What he thought might be a sash or belt is actually a pair of smallclothes, fine quality lace that clings to every inch of Fjord. Caleb swallows hard to stop himself from drooling. Fjord chuckles. “See something you like?”He nods, stumbling farther into the room.





	Eat My Way To Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Feanturi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feanturi/gifts), [Glittering_Darmallon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glittering_Darmallon/gifts).



> Just under the wire! This fic was written for Day 4 of Widowfjord weeks for the prompts "Promises" and "Instincts". Enjoy some unrepentant smut!
> 
> As always, a huge thanks to the CritGoals discord as well as the WidoFjord discord. A special shout out to Fean for providing the quote that inspired the title and to JJ for offering up the delightful image of Fjord in boots, thigh highs, and lingerie. I hope yall like it!
> 
> I think I tagged everything appropriately, but if I missed anything, please let me know.

Partway through a pint of the local finest, Caleb sits huddled in a back corner of the tavern room, recording the past day’s events in his journal, but his vision is starting to double, and his back aches. Really, there’s not much for him to notate. A few skirmishes on the road but ultimately nothing they couldn’t handle. Still, the travel sits heavy on his shoulders, weighing him down. He’s considering turning in early as he scribbles a reminder to check the town for a supplier of arcane materials, when he looks up and finds Caduceus sitting across from him in a chair he never realized had become occupied. Caleb only just stops himself from jumping.

“My apologies, Mr. Caleb,” Caduceus says in that slow, drawling tone he favors, grinning lazily. “I didn’t want to disturb your work.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Clay,” Caleb replies, carefully tucking his journal way, heedless of the still-damp ink. “Did you need something?”

“No, I don’t, but Mr. Fjord asked me to send you up if I saw you down here.”

Caleb stills for a moment, weighing that piece of information. His relationship with Fjord is something of an open secret among the Mighty Nein—they haven’t exactly told anyone about what they get up to after hours, and no one has asked, at least not to his knowledge. But for Fjord to ask Caduceus to find him is…odd. Frowning, Caleb drains the last of his ale and stands. “Thank you, Caduceus. I best see what that’s about.”

Caduceus nods his acknowledgment. As Caleb scoots around the table to head upstairs, a barmaid approaches with a mug of steaming water, and he hears Caduceus offering his thanks. A nice cup of tea before bed, it would seem. Satisfied, Caleb makes his way to their rooms upstairs. He pauses outside the door Jester, Beau, and Nott are camped out in, just long enough to catch the sounds of laughter before he continues on, a tingle of anticipation running down his spine. It might be nothing. Might just be Fjord wants to winnow down their next course of actions before they go to the group. It might be anything.

When he steps into his and Fjord’s room, however, Caleb stops short, gaping at the vision before him.

Fjord sits at the edge of the bed, hair still damp from his bath, chest bare and a pleasing shade of green and faintly flushed. He leans back on his hands, arching his back subtly, legs extended in front of him with his ankles crossed. He’s wearing his boots, though they gleam from a fresh coat of polish, and a new pair of dark stockings cling to his thigh, the black knit embedded with threads of silver and patterned with diamond-shaped lines of large eyelets, each revealing a tease of verdant skin beneath. But what catches Caleb’s eye and leaves his breath thin in his chest is the shimmer of silver spanning Fjord’s hips.

For seven seconds, Caleb stares, his brain slow to react in the face of such a scintillating sight. His mouth waters. He steps forward, the door swinging shut behind him loud enough to startle, but Caleb can’t blink away from Fjord. “ _Was ist das_?” he asks, his voice coming out coarse and gravelly.

Fjord grins, shifting in his seat. He plants both feet on the ground and slowly splays his knees, revealing the source of the silvery shimmer. What he thought might be a sash or belt is actually a pair of smallclothes, fine quality lace that clings to every inch of Fjord. As his cock thickens beneath the fabric, the silver threads catch the light, and Caleb swallows hard to stop himself from drooling. Fjord chuckles. “See something you like?”

He nods, stumbling farther into the room. Stepping in between Fjord’s legs, he looks to Fjord for any sign of discomfort; when he finds none, he reaches down and wraps his hands around Fjord’s lace-clad hips. “Where did these come from?” he says, running his thumb along the smallclothes.

“Picked them up in Rosohna,” Fjord says quickly, squirming in his seat. “My old socks were a bit thin, and Jester dragged me shopping.” Fjord leans in a bit, pressing his nose into Caleb’s sternum. “They weren’t my first choice, but you know how Jester gets.”

He does know; it’s part of why he keeps adding new volumes to his smut collection so he always has something on hand to distract Jester from her more nefarious plans. Gingerly, he runs his hands up Fjord’s sides, reveling in so much naked skin bared for him. However, unlike their previously couplings, Fjord doesn’t bow his head in submission. Doesn’t blush and keen and demurely trail after Caleb’s every touch. Yes, his cheeks are still rosy and he shivers under Caleb’s hands, but his eyes are blown wide, and a sly little grin cuts across his face. He looks nothing short of certain. Brimming confidence and uncontained desire.

Want thick in his throat, Caleb cups Fjord’s chin and rests his thumb at the corner of Fjord’s mouth. “They suit you,” he whispers.

Fjord blushes, but he rolls his shoulders back and sits tall. “I like the way they make me feel.”

“As you should,” Caleb says, letting his gaze rake down Fjord’s chest and settle on the lace stretched tight to contain his arousal, the material over his head already darkening with precome. Heat wells low in his bell, and Caleb breathes deep to quell the flames. “It is good to see you so confident.”

As his grin pulls broader, Fjord turns his head and sucks Caleb’s thumb into his mouth, unblinking. Caleb’s eyelids flutter, and he has to remind himself to breathe though it comes raggedly. Seemingly satisfied, Fjord releases the digit and sits back, his hands coming to rest on Caleb’s hips, a few questing fingertips brushing up under his shirt. “Yeah?” He tucks his head to his chin, continuing quietly. “You don’t mind me being… y’know…”

Caleb huffs out a quiet sound of amusement. “ _Nein, Liebchen_. I would happily surrender myself to you.”

Fjord looks up at him, a disbelieving smile spreading across his face. “So if I asked you to strip down for me?”

Arousal pulsing in his veins, Caleb holds Fjord’s gaze and removes his coat. He takes care unstrapping his book holsters and setting them aside, but the rest he hurriedly shucks. All the way to his skin, not once stopping to think about his skinny, scar-strewn frame or the full-body blush that is warming him. The entire time, all he sees in Fjord’s dark eyes are want and wonder, strong enough his cock twitches. Fjord’s hands tense around his hips, pulling him closer so he can kiss and nibble at Caleb’s chest, his nipples, his collarbones. Caleb keens, bowing forward in the wake of such stark pleasure, dropping his forehead against the crown of Fjord’s head. 

“Fuck, Cay,” Fjord growls against his skin, the points of his claws needling at his hips, “tell me what you want.”

He shivers, licking his lips and swallowing hard to dampen his throat. “I don’t want to think about anything else for a while. Just you.” As he speaks, he lets one of his hands skim along the waistband of Fjord’s drawers. “Just you,” he whispers.

Fjord tilts his head up, moving Caleb with him. He cups Caleb’s cheek, his eye gleaming. “I can do that, darling. Go ahead a lay down for me.”

A quiet noise wells in his throat, but Caleb smothers it and climbs onto the bed. He lays flat on his back with his head near the pillows. Fjord follows, hovering over him and sucking a mark onto Caleb’s chest. Caleb moans, arching his back into the pressure, the bite that turns his skin to gooseflesh. When Fjord pulls back, he presses a kiss to the burgeoning red mark and says, “Lights on or off?”

“On.”

“Okay. Want me to leave these on for a bit?” Fjord snaps the waistline of the smallclothes for emphasis.

Breathless, Caleb nods and reaches for him. “ _Ja, bitte._ ”

“Easy, easy,” Fjord says as he sits up on his knees and swings a leg over Caleb’s hips, straddling him. “I’ll take care of you.”

Caleb gasps even though Fjord doesn’t drop his weight onto him. The coolness of his boots contrast with the softness of his stockings as they press tight against Caleb’s hips. Slowly, carefully, Fjord drops his hips, bringing them together groin to groin with only the thin lace separating them.

Before he can stop himself, Caleb grabs Fjord’s hips and bucks up against him, and the gentle texture and soft friction leave him cross-eyed. Above him, Fjord sucks in a sharp breath before grabbing Caleb’s hands and pinning them to the bed up beside his head, using his entire body to cage Caleb in. _Gods, that shouldn’t be so sexy_. “C’mon, Cay, work with me here. Just stay there looking pretty for me—” He gives Caleb’s wrists a gentle squeeze for emphasis. “—and I’ll make it worth your while.”

A quiet note of want fills the room. It takes Caleb a split second to realize he’s the one making that sound before he can stop himself. When he doesn’t immediately respond, Fjord rolls his hips, and Caleb jolts, straining against Fjord’s grip but falling short. Panting to recover his breath, Caleb mutters, “Promise?”

Fjord grins and gives him another languid thrust. “Promise.”

Breathing slowly, Caleb drops his weight against the mattress and lifts his hands above his head, twining his fingers together before nodding.

Beaming with pride, Fjord kisses him, quick and dirty and more enthusiastic than Caleb is used to. He closes his eyes and parts his lips for Fjord, happy to follow wherever Fjord chooses to lead. Then, Fjord rolls their hips together, the thin, thin lace gliding against his cock, wet enough to leave Caleb slick in its wake. His mouth tips open around a barely silenced moan. “Gods, _Bärchen_ ,” he whimpers, desire pooling in his gut as he forces his hips to stay still, “how long have you been in this state?”

Fjord laughs, and Caleb clenches his hands tight together to keep from reaching for him. “Thinking about you always gets me going,” Fjord admits, his cheeks practically glowing from his blush. He thrusts into the cradle of Caleb’s hips, each motion slow and sure. “I may have gotten a bit worked up lacing these on, though,” he says, grinding down a little firmer until Caleb moans and starts reciting arcane theory in his head to keep from spilling too soon. Grinning, Fjord adds, “Good to know I’m not the only one.”

Keening, Caleb clings to the bedding, his thoughts clouded by his pleasure, turning molasses slow with each circle Fjord makes with his hips. He digs his nails into his palms and sinks into it, soaks up every speck of relaxation he can grab. A distant, needy part of him wants to flip their positions and show Fjord what teasing gets him, but it’s beyond his reach. Especially when Fjord works his fingers into his hair, curls them tight into a fist, and uses his grip to further pin him to the bed. He arches into it before he can stop himself, his eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, Fjord,” he pleads, “that is very nearly perfect.”

Humming, Fjord tugs his hair just enough to make pinpricks of pain light up along his scalp, dragging another wanton sound out of him. “What would make it perfect.”

Despite the growing haze in his thought, Caleb answers immediately. “Sit on my face. Please.”

Fjord releases his hair and grabs his chin, tilting Caleb down to meet his gaze. To take in the desire so plain across his face: the wide-blown eyes, the gorgeous flush to his cheeks, the way he locks his lips before speaking. He presses another kiss to Caleb’s lips and, when they part, whispers, “Anything, sweetheart.”

It takes some careful rearranging—and a momentary misunderstanding about whether the smallclothes should be removed or not—but in no time, Fjord is straddling his shoulders, slowly inching backward. “Put your hands on my hims and guide me, darling. I don’t wanna squish you.”

Caleb moves instinctively, cupping Fjord’s lace-clad ass and gently pulling him backward. As soon as Fjord’s directly above him, he smooths his hands down from the lacy hems to the cuff of the stockings and back. Gods, he wants to press forward and smother himself in those cheeks, but he bites his lip and waits. “Whenever you’re ready, _Bärchen_ ,” he says, his voice quivering with need.

Avobe him, Fjord shivers. “Everything’s clean back there. Just pinch me if you need a breather.”

“ _Ja, ja,_ ” Caleb sasses, tugging at Fjord’s hips. “Give it to me.”

Without further ado, Fjord eases himself down, and Caleb closes his eyes and groans into the most perfect ass he has ever beheld. Relishing the sensation of lace against his lips, he spreads Fjord’s cheeks and licks into him as far as he can reach. Fjord moans above him, his thighs quivering on either side of Caleb’s head, and Caleb hums in turn. Sinking deeper and deeper into this foggy headspace, he can’t think of anything beyond pouring more and more pleasure into the man above him, drawing out his bliss until Fjord is satisfied. Eyes closed in concentration, Caleb holds Fjord closer and does his damnedest to eat his way to Fjord’s heart. When Fjord arches his back, grinds against his tongue, and reaches back to grip his hair, Caleb soars.

“Fuck, fuck.” Fjord pants, his thighs tensing around him. “How do you even do that, Cay? Oh!”

Half-smothered and safely shrouded in Fjord’s scent, Caleb grins and flourishes his tongue. Realistically, one of them should reach up and unlace the smallclothes and satisfy their mutual need for skin on skin, but Caleb can’t be bothered to care. Not with the one-man symphony Fjord is performing above him, each noise so sinful and decadent that Caleb’s dick twitches from secondhand bliss and pride in a job well done.

“Fuck, Cay, hold on.”

He groans a response, and then in a blur of motion, he’s upside down, laid out on top of Fjord and unable to hold his own weight. Clawed hands wrap around his hips, and before he can so much as gasp, wet heat surround him. Laves him. Sucks him deep and moans around him which sends vibrations shattering through him. He bucks into the sensation, overcome and on edge. But before he can be pushed too far, mid-lick Caleb moves a hand to Fjord’s cock, stroking him through the lace, teasing the sensitive ridges and clenching tight around the knot.

With a muffled cry and a jerk of his hips, Fjord comes, and Caleb follows seconds after. Even as pleasure bursts from his every nerve, he works Fjord through his release, only stopping once Fjord’s cries and twitches have abated. They lay together in the aftermath, sweat-stricken and panting for breath. Caleb pulls back enough to see the growing stain across Fjord’s smallclothes and an ember of want rekindles in his chest. But he pushes those thoughts out of his mind and mutters, “Apologies, Fjord. I did not think we’d spoil them so thoroughly.”

“Shh,” Fjord says, wrapping an arm around him and pulling Caleb into his chest. “It’s not a problem. Besides…” he trails off for a moment, shifting anxiously before adding, “I have more.”

Caleb chokes on his own tongue. He wants to bolt upright and dig these new garments out of Fjord’s pack and demand to see, but he puts them out of mind in favor of snuggling closer to Fjord, soaking up his warmth and strength, and bit by bit, his mind quiets and sleep finds him. As he drifts off, a thought occurs to him: _Maybe next time I can be the one to surprise Fjord._ But before his mind can run away considering possibilites, Fjord holds him a little tighter and the thrum of thoughts quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Questions, comments, and concrit always welcome!


End file.
